


It'll Be Okay

by LuxAve



Series: Let's Be Okay [1]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Panic Attack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3872518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxAve/pseuds/LuxAve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Different times when the Hamadas had an anxiety attack or spoke about it. Spans throughout the whole series. Will be marked as complete.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anxiety Attack

**Author's Note:**

> Hiro finally looks up what is 'wrong' with him. A companion piece to You're Okay.

**Anxiety Attack**

It was freshmen year for the eleven year old, Hiro Hamada. His brother, Tadashi, was a senior, who had ‘graduated’ a semester early. While the pre-teen envied the elder for already being done with school, he was still thankful that his older brother had practically reigned the school when he had attended, so the younger didn’t have to worry about anyone picking on him; Tadashi still had friends who were there and would text the older Hamada in a heartbeat if someone so much as looked his younger brother side-ways.

 

Tadashi wasn’t violent, oh no he was the most docile creature to ever walk the surface of the earth, it’s just no one _wanted_ to mess with him. Everyone had seen his science projects, attempts at experiments that while didn’t work out in his favor, still showed that he wasn’t afraid to toss things together just to see what happened; most of the time, those outcomes were a mess.

 

So the eleven year old was able to walk the halls without much caution taken.

 

Hiro didn’t know what brought it on, or what it even was. It was his first day back to school after spring break, not a very stressful day, the calmness and quietness of the teachers and students rivaled that of the first day of the school year. He couldn’t understand why he felt so nervous and on edge. He wasn’t even doing anything, just sitting at a table in his last period study hall, when he noticed the feeling.

 

Sure, the young Hamada had a lot on his mind, mostly worry for his older brother, but other than that, Hiro’s mind was blank.

 

_Tadashi had gotten in a little car accident a few days prior, nothing too major, just a driver speeding more than a handful of miles over the limit and slammed into the passenger side of Tadashi’s car. Thankfully no one was in the passenger seat, and all Tadashi got was a fractured forearm and a sprained wrist from when he pressed his hand on the door to keep from hitting it when the car jarred._

_Hiro had been the one who answered the phone when Tadashi had called from the hospital, needing a ride home._

_“Hiro,” Tadashi’s voice sounded frustrated. “Please just get Aunt Cass.”_

_The eleven year old was just teasing when he kept saying “No, not until you say where you are.” In all respect, Hiro had been worried, the elder just had to run an errand that shouldn’t have take as long as Tadashi had been gone. And the younger didn’t like the tiredness that was suddenly heard in his older brother’s voice._

_He heard Tadashi sigh. “I’m at the hospital. Please get Aunt Cass.”_

_“What?!” Hiro jumped and pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it like he would if the elder of the two were standing right in front of him. “Why? Are you okay?”_

_“Hiro.” The voice on the other end of the line took a warning tone. “Aunt Cass.”_

_“Hold on.” Hiro put the phone on one of the living room end tables and raced down into the café. “Aunt Cass!” He called when he reached the café’s kitchen. “Aunt Cass!”_

_She came around the corner, entering the small space from the pantry. “Hiro? What’s-”_

_“Tadashi’s on the phone.” Hiro pointed in the general direction of where he had left the phone._

_“Where is he?” She asked, not liking the worried expression on her youngest nephew’s face._

_He didn’t want to tell her, especially since he didn’t know the whole story. “I think that’s for him to say.” He grabbed her arm and started to pull her along, making his way back upstairs._

_“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” She followed suit._

_Hiro stood in the kitchen as he watched his aunt pick up the phone from where he left it._

_“Tadashi?” She asked as he put the receiver up to her ear. “I promise not freak out.” She sat on the arm of the couch. “Yes, yes, I promise. Pinky swear.” She was quiet for a minute while he talked. Hiro watched her expression change from slight concern to parental worry. “You’re where?! What happened? Are you all right? . . . I know I promised not freak out, but you’re my baby, I’m allowed to break that promise.” She ran a hand through her hair as she hopped up from the arm of the couch in favor of pacing around the small living room. “Honey, there’s no need to be sorry, it was an accident, wasn’t even your fault. I’m sure the insurance will pay for most of it.”_

_Hiro’s eyes widened as he began to connect the dots._

_“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Cass continued. “We’ll get you another car.”_

_That statement confirmed what Hiro was thinking._

_“I’ll be there in a few minutes, honey.” Cass hung up the phone and looked at Hiro. “He’s fine.” She gave a slightly forced smile that the elven year old saw right through. “I’m gonna go pick him up, do you want to come too?”_

_Hiro shook his head. Hospitals scared him._

_She chuckled. “Alright. We should be back in about a half hour, an hour at the most.”_

Over those next few days, Hiro couldn’t help but mentally freak out every once in a while whenever he thought about the fact that had Tadashi of had just a slightly smaller car and had the other car that hit Tadashi had been going just a few miles faster, his older brother might not had made it home that night. Hiro became clingy again, like he was when he was younger, would hesitate whenever Tadashi would have to do something that Hiro couldn’t follow him to or be in the immediate vicinity.

 

Hiro had never given much thought to the fact that in the blink of an eye, a person could be taken from him. Of course he _knew_ that could happen, while he doesn’t remember his parents, he does know that they were just out and about doing a normal thing when they were taken from the two brothers years and years ago. Hiro’s not stupid, he also knows that humans are fragile creatures and things happen.

 

But it startled him to know that Tadashi had just gone out to take a short tour of the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, like he had twenty times before, and that it was literally five miles down the road and around a corner, and somewhere between there and the café, Tadashi had been hurt.

 

“I’m not that hurt, bonehead.” Tadashi had attempted to calm his little brother down multiple times.

 

But he still had been hurt. And those ‘what-if’ scenarios running through the eleven year old’s mind every time Hiro looked at his brother, his breathing would pick up and his heart would race right along side of visions of that speeding car.

 

His breath caught in his throat when he was brought out of his thoughts when someone dropped a book on the floor close to him. He jumped in his chair at the sudden sound that echoed through the mostly empty cafeteria.

 

He put a hand to his chest as he tried to keep his breathing quiet and slow.

 

This had happened before, for years. When his mind would conjure up situations to a past event, where things could have been much worse than they were, and then the poor boy would feel like he couldn't breathe.

 

And that alone scared him. He didn’t know what it was, why it was happening to him. He had an allergic reaction once, to peanuts, and he had felt his throat close up then too, and that’s honestly what he felt like was happening every time something like this occurred.

 

But he hadn’t ate anything with peanuts, or anything made in the same factory; he’s very careful about where his food comes from now after one too many reactions to things made in the same factory.

 

He just about flew out of his chair when the bell went off. He grabbed his backpack and shot towards the door, having already had gone to his locker for his end of the day stuff before his study hall. He was one of the first out the door and he practically ran out the gate towards the park, a short cut home.

 

But he had to stop running when he reached the pond a fourth of the way into the park. He couldn’t breathe and his legs felt like they were trying to drag lead that was tied to his feet. He dropped his bag by a bench that was underneath some flowering trees and dropped himself on the wooded seat. He was trembling more so than leaves in a windstorm.

 

Hiro leaned back and closed his eyes for a few moments. He purposely held his breath for as long as he could, before he exhaled slowly and repeated.

 

He didn’t know how long he sat there, going over the breathing sequence, but it was obviously long enough for his brother to come looking for him.

 

“There you are.” The voice startled Hiro something awful. The boy jumped from his seat and fell to the ground.

 

“You can’t do that to people!” Hiro snapped when Tadashi started laughing.

 

The elder sat next to where the younger was sitting. “You do realize it’s almost three o’clock, yeah?”

 

Hiro stood up and dusted his pants off before taking back his seat. “I do now.” He mumbled.

 

“Have you been here the entire time?” Tadashi asked, he moved so he was leaning forward slightly, his bright green cast caught the light from the sun.

 

Hiro nodded his head, looking away from his brother.

 

A hand suddenly assaulted the fluffy mass that was Hiro’s hair. “Then answer your phone next time, knucklehead.”

 

The younger batted the hand away. “Didn’t even hear it, sorry.” He mumbled.

 

“Well, come on, we better get going.”

 

(---)

 

Hiro finally sat down to look up what he was feeling earlier. He had times where he felt like that before, and he didn’t know what it was, but was too afraid to Google it. He pulled up a medical website and clicked on their ‘symptom checker’, he filled in a few questions and clicked a few things that he had been feeling and the first thing to pop up was ‘Anxiety’.

 

He clicked on the link that took him to an explanation of what that was.

 

And it all stared clicking in his mind. He was always nervous, had times where he would tremble and his heart would pound in his chest like it was trying to break free from him. It all made sense now. He would over think things, situations that were long ago over and out of his control and then these feelings would start if he spent too long in his mind.

 

It all made sense.

 


	2. Six Feet Under Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiro visit's Tadashi's grave to have a heart to heart conversation, a conversation he meant to have a long time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Callaghan is arrested.

**Six Feet Under Anxiety**

 

It was a foggy morning when he pushed open the creaky gate to the cemetery. It had almost every cliché in the book: foggy atmosphere, creepy shadows, muddy hills, a few cawing crows, even the rickety gate that didn’t latch properly behind him. But even the creepy factor, he wasn’t scared; he knew this place like the back of his hand now.

 

The hydrangeas he had in his hand, while still vibrant and fresh, seemed to sense what they’d be used for and gave the illusion of drooping. He looked sadly at the purple flowers, trying to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. They could fall when he gets to his destination, but not at the moment, he needs to be able to see so he doesn’t trip along the path.

 

It doesn’t take him long to find the headstones he came to visit, the dirt still visible from when they buried the empty casket in front of one of them, the laid flowers long since dead and gone.

 

He stopped at two conjoined headstones, placing a bunch of the flowers in front of each one. He didn’t say anything to those two, choosing to just quietly read the names of his parents and the dates under them for a moment, before turning to the stone next to theirs.

 

_Tadashi Hamada_

 

He has loathed every second since he first read the name written in stone.

 

That name shouldn’t be carved into the grey rock, no matter how pretty they try to make the font. The headstone with the name’s dates is way too close together. Someone that young should not have had to get a headstone, their only lasting proof that they were in the world.

 

Hiro Hamada sighed, sitting on the grass in front of the stone. He reached up to run his fingers over the engraving of his older brother’s name; the coldness from the stone seemed to seep into him.

 

“So, uh,” Hiro began softly, talking to the headstone. “I should have told this to you earlier, I should have talked to you before-” He cut himself off, his breath hitching. “Before everything happened. Doctor Pat told me I should have talked to you about this. But, I obviously didn’t.” He nervously twisted the bouquet of the purple hydrangeas in his hands; he hadn’t put them down yet.

 

He stopped talking for a moment, letting the early morning air become quiet again. The background music of birds beginning to chirp and the creaking of tree branches added a sense of sereneness, even though he felt the opposite in his heart.

 

“I never gave you an exact reason why I had anxiety like I did, still do, but that's a little different of a story there. But, um, before,” Hiro continued, he looked right at his brother’s name, like he would if he were having a deep conversation with Tadashi, looking his older brother in the eye. “Before everything, the anxiety I had them was from, well,” He hesitated. He didn’t know if Tadashi was listening, or where Tadashi was; their family was never very religious, but Hiro hoped, and even prayed, that Tadashi was somewhere nice. Hiro hoped that Tadashi was in Heaven, watching over their small family.

 

And if Tadashi _was_ listening, Hiro didn’t want what he was going to say, offend his older brother in any way.

 

“My anxiety was from you.” He muttered to the stone in front of him, breaking eye contact with the name to look down at the flowers in his hands. “Please don’t take that in the wrong way.” He looked back up at the stone, tears spilling out of his brown eyes. He took in a shaky breath, but he let out a soft laugh. “Hey, remember when I accidently broke your nose? All four times?”

 

When they were younger, Hiro had a habit of accidently breaking his older brother’s nose, in completely random and unrelated ways. The first time they were roughhousing and he managed to elbow the older in the face, even though Hiro was only four at the time; that’s when he learned the elbow is the strongest point in the body. The second time, they were about a year older, and playing catch on the terrace. Tadashi missed the catch with his glove but caught it with his face instead; then he had the audacity to ask if that would count as a catch when he got into the major leagues.

 

The third and fourth times were freak accidents. One day the two decided it would be fun to throw a broom back and fourth at each other. Obviously, that ended with Cass having to straighten out her eldest nephew’s nose, again. And the fourth time, Hiro just threw a binder Tadashi was looking for at him when the elder wasn't looking, hitting him in the face.

 

“Did I ever mention I was sorry about all those times?” Hiro asked, trying to lighten the mood for himself. “Because, I am.” He sniffled as he ran a hand through his hair. “I have a point, I promise. Do you remember how I’d freak over the fact that you were hurt? Like, more than a normal person would freak out?”

 

After all those accidents, it was Hiro who was actually crying, the only tears escaping Tadashi were the involuntary ones.

 

“There’s a reason I acted like that,” Hiro continued his one sided conversation. “Why I acted like that _every time_ you got hurt.” He fell quiet for a moment. “I was afraid of something happening to you.” He finally told his brother, finally verbalized why he was always anxious to someone other than his therapist.

 

“I know,” Hiro mumbled. “I know I should have actually told you earlier, told you when you were still here.” He wiped at the tears on his face with his sleeve. “Maybe, what happened, wouldn’t have happened. I should have talked to you instead of investing in illegal hobbies, instead of sneaking out and then arguing with you about it.”  He thought for a moment, maybe things _would_ have been different, maybe Tadashi would still be alive, maybe Hiro would never had invented those stupid Microbots Callaghan would have started a fire to steal. But maybe, had everything played out like it had, maybe Tadashi would have thought twice about running into a burning building.

 

“Yeah, maybe things would be different.” He mumbled to himself.

 

He looked at the flowers in his hand. “I could never remember a time when you mentioned what your favorite flowers were, or even if you had a favorite, but I remembered you buying these for mom and dad, so I thought I’d get them too.” He laid the bunch against the bottom of the stone. “I miss you ‘Dashi.” He softly said, reading his brother’s name one more time before he stood up. “I’ll be back soon, and I’ll tell you all about the project I’m working on.” A small smile danced across his face. “And I promise, it’s nothing illegal.”

 

Hiro stood there for a moment before running his fingers over the top of the headstone, using that as a sort of good-bye hug, before he started walking down the path to the entrance he came through.

 

He had a brother to make proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna know a fun fact? I haver personally broken my brother's nose four times. The only difference is the first time it was broken - I was an evil child and pushed him down cement basement stairs (I was only four at the time, of course, it doesn't make it sound better when I tell you he was only two...). I've also broken his nose playing baseball, tossing a broom back and forth (that's not a great idea at all!!), and instead of a binder, I tossed a book at my brother and managed to hit him. 
> 
> And then I sit here as I type this and wonder why my brother hates me....


	3. Red Ripped Folder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not nice to step on other people's things, and it's not nice to mock a tragic event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the events of You're Okay.  
> Just a short little thing.

**Red Ripped Folders**

 

 

The bell rang, piercing through the silent air of the lecture hall. He smiled as he packed up his things; finally able to work on an idea he had for his project. The idea he thought up when he got into his first class and had bouncing around his mind all day, he was finally getting to work on it.

 

Of course, his last lecture on just about every day ended in a hall way furthest from his lab, and of course, the last lecture he had on the day he had his best idea, was on the other side of the campus; curse having to take general study classes as well as his major.

 

He grumbled when he stumbled with his bag, dropping everything in it. He rolled his eyes as he knelt to pick everything up, folders and papers were scattered in a small circle just in his reach.

 

He heard some snickering coming up behind him, but he ignored it, hoping it was just a few students laughing at the fact that he had a clumsy moment. He had some issues with a few of his classmates, they weren’t very happy that a fourteen year old was smarter than them, even though he hardly raised his hand to answer a question in class – the teacher just automatically assuming he knew the answer and would call on him.

 

“Way to go, nerd.” Someone said behind him, coming closer.

 

Hiro just rolled his brown eyes, trying to pick up his things. He reached for a folder that had notes on Baymax, but a shoe suddenly appeared, holding the paper product to the floor.

 

Hiro’s shoulders deflated a bit before he looked up, noticing three people in front of him, the three students he normally had a problem with on a bi-daily basis. “What?” The fourteen year old sharply asked, clearly not in the mood to deal with three jealous colleagues.

 

“You just love showing off, don't you?” The 20 year old, Josh, who was stepping on his folder, sneered. 

 

The youngest Hamada sighed. “I don’t have time for this.” He mumbled, he tried to pull the folder out from underneath the Nike shoe.

 

The second male, Ryan, leaned against the wall in front of the young teen crouched on the ground. “If you already know everything, why are you wasting your time here, being a know-it-all.”

 

The teen raised an eyebrow. Were they really going for the petty jabs at his intelligence?

 

“Seriously, why are you even here?” The third guy, Logan, who was normally the quietest of the three, questioned, a condescending tone to his voice.

 

Why was Hiro here? Tadashi. His older brother pushed him to get into the school, always telling the young high school graduate that Hiro could change the world if he just used his mind. Hiro was in this school to make his brother proud, prove to Tadashi just what the elder knew all along.

 

But Hiro didn’t respond to the three students around him. Instead the fourteen year old gave a hard yank to the folder, while ripping half of the folder cover, the notes in the pockets were safely intact, notes that his brother personally wrote.

 

Josh was having none of that. They wanted an answer from the know-it-all, and they were going to get it. He reached down and swiped the torn folder from the unsuspecting teen.

 

“Hey!” Hiro hopped up from the ground.

 

The older boy childishly held the material above his head. “You’ll get it back when you answer us.”

 

“Answer what? You didn’t ask anything that required an answer. Why I’m going here is my own personal business.” Hiro snapped his eyes locked onto the folder. He attempted to reach for it, but that just ended with him being laughed at.

 

Somehow, Logan had Hiro pinned against the walls while Josh and Ryan went through the folder.

 

Ryan scoffed. “Isn’t this your brother’s notes?” The older male remembered sitting next to the other Hamada, remembered seeing him scribbling things down on the margins of classwork and scraps of paper. He recognized the handwriting.

 

The male pinning Hiro laughed. “Isn’t your brother dead?”

 

Blood ran cold in Hiro, and he froze, his gaze automatically falling to the floor.

 

“Okay, I think that’s enough.” A familiar voice said from the side of the group. The voice was normally very chilled, but this time, it had an edge to it.

 

Hiro looked up just in time to see the folder being ripped form Josh’s hand. And for a fleeting second, Hiro thought he’d lose the notes holder, until he recognized the hand now holding it.

 

“Seriously, don’t you have other things you should be doing other than terrorizing people?” Another familiar, albeit deeper than the first, voice came from the other side of the group.

 

Fred stood there, now holding the folder, and Wasabi coming up next to him.

 

But Hiro didn't smile. He was too caught up in the fact that these three unsympathetic bullies were basically mocking his brother, his brother who wasn't here anymore, his brother who would probably still be here if it weren’t for certain events that Hiro was involved in hadn’t happened.

 

Suddenly the red folder he had been trying to get back was in his eyesight, being handed to him. “Here you go, little man.” Fred gave him a smile as Hiro clutched on to the ripped folder.

 

“Why don’t you three run along and do something constructive.” He heard Wasabi tell the three guys.

 

“Thanks.” Hiro muttered, grabbing his bag, making sure it was zipped up before he slung the strap over his shoulder.

 

“Heading off to the lab?” His laid-back friend asked as Wasabi joined the two.

 

Hiro was, but not anymore. Now he just wanted to be alone and cry over his brother again, like he did almost everyday. “No. I’m going home.” He started to walk away. “Thanks you guys.” He remembered to say before he was out of earshot of the two older men.

 

“Anytime.” The taller male sadly said as they watched the late best friend’s brother walk away. Him and Fred shared a look.

 

“We can check on him later.” Fred tried to smile, but he himself was hurt that those three guys were poking fun at a tragic event, especially in front of the victim’s little brother.

 

Wasabi nodded, giving one last look in the direction Hiro walked off in before heading towards the lab.

 

(---)

 

Hiro trudged into the café and was immediately greeted by smiling faces and the delicious smell of various pastries that seemed to harmonize.

 

“You’re home early.” Cass commented when she saw him. At first she smiled, surprised to see him home before dinner, but the smile dropped when she saw his expression. “What happened?” she quietly asked when he walked around the counter to get to the stairs leading up to the living space. She was about to question about the ripped up, red folder in his grip.

 

“Nothing.” He muttered as he passed by, clutching the papers even tighter in his hands.

 

She didn’t say anything else, just watched him disappear around the corner.

 

When the fourteen year old made it to his room he dropped his bag on the floor. On his way to curl up on his bed, he stopped and looked toward Tadashi’s corner. The tears that had been trying to fall from his eyes since his run in with his classmates finally fell as he looked at the uninhabited corner of the room. He took a few steps toward the open rice paper partition, and peeked around.

 

He glanced down to the folder in his hands. “Sorry this got ripped up today.” He quietly apologized, hoping that if Tadashi was there with him, he’d understand. “The notes are fine though, I checked them on the way home. It’s just the folder that’s ripped.”

 

He turned away from Tadashi’s side and made his way over to his desk. He pulled open the numerous drawers looking for something he could never seem to find when he needs it – the roll of packing tape. Why is it when he doesn't need it, he’ll run into it multiple times a day, but when he _does_ need it, it magically disappears? “Come one.” He grumped to himself. “I just saw you.”

 

Of course, the last drawer he checks he finds it.

 

It took him a few minutes, wouldn’t have been as long as it had been, if he had gotten the tape on right the first time he applied the strips, but that didn’t work out.

 

Hiro gave a small smile when he was finished, tracing a finger over ‘Baymax’, following the curves Tadashi’s writing made. He wasn’t throwing this folder away, even if it was ripped up, until not even tape would hold the paper product together. “Good as new.” He finally flopped down on his bed and immediately burrowed under his blankets.

 

_“Isn’t your brother dead?”_

 

That questioned and the laughing that surrounded it, echoed in his mind. Why would someone mock _someone’s_ death? Why would someone mock _his brother’s_ death? Why would someone mock _Tadashi’s_ death?

 

He sniffled as he shoved his face into his pillow. Once again, thoughts of how things could have been if Hiro had just done one thing differently, had he just held onto his brother just a little bit tighter, had he not created the Microbots.

 

When he started crying, he reached over to his desk next to his bed and grabbed the folder again, holding it close to him like he had all the way home, just trying to feel closer to his brother. He tried to sob quietly, and he thought he was until he heard his aunt walk in.

 

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asked, sitting on the edge of his bed, hand messing with the hair that stuck out of his blanket cocoon.

 

He didn’t answer at first, just taking the comfort of her sitting there to calm him down a little bit, quieting down so it was just tears again. He pulled the folder out from under him and showed her.

 

“What happened?” She lightly grazed her fingers over the clear tape covered rip.

 

He shifted so his blanket wasn’t wrapped around his face. “Dropped my bag in the hallway, my stuff spilled out and these guys-”

 

Cass frowned. “The same ones who’ve been bothering you since the first day?”

 

He nodded slowly. “One of them stepped on it, and it ripped when I finally got it out from under him, but he took it from me, and one of the others mocked Tadashi.” He finished quickly, sniffling again, the waterworks starting back up. Hiro pulled his brother’s folder back to him.

 

Her face softened, a haunted look in her eyes thought. “Oh, honey.” She simply said.

 

He sat up. “Why would someone do that?” He suddenly asked. “That’s disrespectful and rude!” His breath hitched when he finished talking. He felt himself being pulled towards his aunt. “We’re they ever taught to not say stuff like that?” He continued to rant, just trying to keep himself talking so he wouldn’t cry again.

 

Cass sighed, placing her head on top of his. “I don’t know, honey.” She muttered to him quietly.  Oh how she wished she had a time machine right now. “I don’t know.”

 

 

 

 

 


	4. The Perfect Project

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where Hiro’s idea for his SFIT project came from.

**The Perfect Project**

 

He was frustrated, more so than when he was trying to come up with the perfect invention for the Institute Showcase months ago. And this was actually worth a grade! Of course, technically, the idea itself wasn’t due until the _end of the school year_ and the first semester for the year just started about a month prior, he was still determined to get it figured out and prototype plans drawn out and built before the end of the year; extra credit was going to be given to those who actually started building what they were going to work on.

 

But nonetheless, he was frustrated and nothing was helping him out. He’d been trying to figure it out for a week! He even had asked questions about past students’ projects, just to try to form an idea.

 

Nothing helped.

 

And this time, no one was going to shake him around and tell him to _‘think of a new angle’_.

 

And he didn’t know if that little bit of knowledge frustrated him more or not.

 

“Hiro, what are you doing still up?” Cass walked into the garage-turned-lab, she had noticed the light on and came down to check on it.

 

Hiro dropped his head on the desk, crumpled and ripped notebook pages bouncing at the sudden jolt. “I can’t think of a project.”

 

Her expression softened. “You’ll figure it out, you have plenty of time.” She patted his shoulder. “However, you will have a harder time if you don’t get some sleep.” She gently started to pull him away from the desk. “Come on, you’re going to bed. You’ve got class in the morning anyway.”

 

He grumbled to himself as he let her lead him away from his nonexistent project and up the two flights of stairs to his room.

 

“You can work on it more tomorrow.” Cass softly told him.

 

He almost shrugged but stopped himself; he was trying to get out of the habit of the being his only answer to things. “I guess.” He mumbled as he crawled into his bed, turning away from his brother’s empty side of the room. “Night, Aunt Cass.”

 

She gave him a soft smile. “Night, Hiro.” With that, she left the boy alone so he could get some actual sleep.

 

_“What do you mean you won’t go in there?” Hiro cried as he tried to get the firefighter to go in after Tadashi. The paramedic next to him tried to get the fourteen year old to calm down and wear an oxygen mask._

_“Son, the fire is too out of control and it’s way too hot to actually go in there right now.” The middle-aged firefighter told Hiro as they both glanced at the half standing, burning building._

_“My brother’s in there!” He tried to squirm his way out of the paramedic’s grip to run back toward the building, like hell he was going to leave his brother there alone!_

_“Hold still!” The paramedic scolded as she tried to keep the mask on Hiro’s face. “You need this!”_

_He shook his head and pointed to the building. “My. Brother. Is. In. There. Get him out!” He begged and pleaded with the firefighter, completely ignoring the paramedic trying to get clean oxygen into his smoke filled lungs. He grabbed a hold of the man’s arm, acting like the child he was. “Please get him out.”_

_“It’s too dangerous and hot to go in there right now.” The man tried to explain to the slightly delusional teen before him on the gurney. “We can’t send anybody in.” The way he said it, the tone of voice he used and the look in his eye told Hiro no one would survive going_ into _the building._

_So no one would survive being in the building if they were in there now._

_Hiro stopped fighting. He stopped begging and pleading. He just stopped._

_The firefighter walked away, the paramedic got the facemask on him._

_And the world just stopped while he kept going._

Tadashi’s _world just stopped. And Hiro’s kept going._

He woke up in a crying mess. He took a few minutes to wake up and calm himself down before the idea hit him.

 

He hopped out of bed and ran down, as quietly as he could, to the lab in the garage. Before he started to forget, he was still half-asleep after all, he wrote down the main idea, the main purpose of his invention.

 

A firefighting suit that could actually withstand higher heat temperatures for longer.

 

He did a quick Google search on current fire protection used to combat fires and rescue victims, since oddly enough, he had no idea.

 

“35 TTP, about 18 seconds in 1000 degree heat.” He mumbled to himself as he wrote down the estimates of the current protection. Normal fires are 400-800.” Still asleep, his handwriting was all over the page, not even staying on the same lines.

 

“Hiro!” Cass’s voice suddenly rang out in the quiet air.

 

Said teen jump two feet off his chair. “You gave me a heart attack!” He yelped.

 

“What are you doing up? Have you slept at all?” She questioned as she walked down the stairs over to him. He noticed she was dressed in her work clothes, apron in hand.

 

“I swear I did. I had a bad dream, woke up and then an idea hit me!” He smiled wide and went back to his Google search. “Needs protection from steam.” He also noted onto the paper, now ignoring his not-sneakily-snooping aunt.

 

She looked over his shoulder at his paper and computer screen. She raised an eyebrow at first but decided to drop it. He’d tell her about it later, when he was more awake.

 

She ruffled his hair before she started walking away.

 

He was too busy making little notes that he didn’t even swat her hand away. “Protection against things falling?” He wrote a question mark next to the words.

 

Hiro didn’t pay attention in any of his classes or lectures that day, choosing instead to continue mapping out his project in the margins of his notebook paper. At one point he paused and looked at the fact that he had more notes for this fire suit than notes for his classwork on the pages. He remembered looking through his brother’s notes on Baymax to find that he had done things like that as well – rather write down ideas for Baymax than important points for an upcoming exam.

 

He went straight to his lab, Tadashi’s lab, after his lectures ended. He didn’t even remember if he actually said hi to his friends or just completely brushed them off. He had to get the actual suit design on paper – real paper, not notebook page margin.

 

He had made suits before, that much was true and that much was known and obvious, having done most of the designing and making of their hero suits, he knew the general run-around for this. He just didn’t know how to make what he wanted. He had no idea for the technology behind fireproofing things, making objects fire resistant and the like. But he could get the basic design and look down.

 

This was a _prototype_ after all.

 

He could add the actual bells and whistles when he did more research.

 

(---)

 

“I’ve got the perfect project.” He declared as he walked into the _busy_ café, thinking he’d made it during the afternoon lull. He looked around and smiled sheepishly and added “which I will tell you about later.”

 

His aunt laughed from behind the counter.

 

“Need any help?” He asked, trying to cover up his minor embarrassing moment. He didn’t like talking in front of a lot of people, even if he somewhat knew everyone in the café.

 

Cass shook her head. “Believe it or not, I actually don’t at the moment. Maybe around dinner I’ll need some help.” She smiled.

 

“Alright.” He nodded. “I’ll be in the lab if you need me.” He made his way toward the stairs leading down, had he had known the café was actually almost packed, he would have just gone straight into there instead.

 

He had gotten a good half hour of sketching in when Cass had walked down.

 

“So, tell me about this project.” She placed a bowl of fruit next to her nephew. Just because she stress eats sugary things doesn’t mean she doesn’t enforce a healthy diet.

 

Hiro popped a piece of strawberry in his mouth. “Thanks.” He muttered with his mouth full. He pulled up the first attempt at 3D rendering of the very first prototype suit design. “I’m not sure how I’m going to make it _all_ at the moment, I still have a lot of research to do on a lot of the things, but, uh,” He hesitated for a moment, as he also pulled out his notes to let her flip through. “I decided to make a suit for fire fighters that can withstand more heat for longer periods of time, have less steam being let into the suit and I’m going to try to see if I can do something about it being stronger in case something were to fall on them.” He rushed out, pointing to different ideas he had jotted down. He spun the rendering around to show her.

 

Cass flipped through the pages and glanced at the screen before her, a sad smile creeping up on her face, knowing exactly where this idea of his came form. She reached over and pulled him into a hug. “He’s proud.” She muttered softly as the computer screen stared brightly at the two of them. “You know?”

 

Hiro’s breath hitched just the tiniest bit, she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been hugging him. “Yeah, yeah I know.” He’ll deny his voice ever cracked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, so I may or may not have had an idea for a fourth installment in the series…. But that’s really not for certain, but it’s to deal with the plot twist in We’re Okay.


	5. Pyrophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiro's new found fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to tell you how LONG I've been working on this one little one-shot. Oh wait, yes I can (via "Get Info" on the actual word doc), Created July 19 at 2:38 AM. Modified (today) August 14 at 5:39 PM. That's a long time for just 1985 words...   
> Not beta'd, not edited (well, not really edited).

**Pyrophobia**

 

“Hey Fred,” Hiro started as the fourteen year old walked into his friend’s house. “I have a question.” He shifted the garment bag over his shoulder, and the duffle bag in his hand.

 

“What’s up little dude?” The laid-back son of millionaires asked as he greeted the teen with a dude hug.

 

Hiro motioned to the bags he had. “Would you mind helping me test a prototype?”

 

The young adult nodded. “Need a dummy?” He asked, implying that they had plenty of the foam dummies to use, they had at least two dozen dummy people stored up – that’s how they tested their weapons when they deemed it too dangerous for Heathcliff to be the dummy.

 

“And you.” Hiro nodded. “This is that project I’m supposed to start next year, but I want extra credit, so I started early.”

 

Fred gave a small smile when Hiro wasn’t looking, the young teen was _just like_ Tadashi; starting projects way before they were supposed to start just to get a few extra points that they honestly didn’t need but wanted anyway; working way too hard on things that they had plenty of time to tweak and shine.

 

The two walked down into the basement, where they had taken over as they’re testing grounds for their suits.

 

“So, what do you need?” Fred asked as the doors before them slid open revealing a large empty room, the size rivaling a school gym. They walked in and Hiro b-lined straight for a closet on the furthest side from the door, dropping the bags halfway there.

 

“Well,” The fourteen year old began, pulling a dummy two heads taller than him out of the closet, along with a stand to set it in. “I need your fire.” He simply stated. He opened up the garment bag and pulled out an almost skin-tight bright reflective orange and yellow suit.

 

“This is what you’ve been working on?” Fred asked as grabbed the arm of the suit and inspected it. The fabric was thick but somehow very lightweight. He held the suit as Hiro situated the dummy into it. “So, what exactly is this?”

 

The youngest college student gave a saddened sigh, but other than that, gave no indication that he heard his older friend’s question.

 

But Fred knew better. While Hiro didn’t seem like he heard Fred, he did. So Fred didn’t repeat and would let Hiro answer when he was ready.

 

“How hot can you get your fire?” Hiro questioned a few minutes later as he sat the dummy up to stand by itself.

 

The laid-back friend thought for a moment. “I think it reaches about 1000. But you’d have to be surrounded by it. Why?”

 

“Do we still have that one container that Wasabi brought to test those lasers a few weeks ago?” Hiro continued to toss questions at his teammate.

 

The blonde nodded. “Yeah. I’ll bring it in.” He scurried off to drag the glass containment cell-type thing in.

 

Hiro continued setting everything up. The suit hung almost beautifully on the dummy, if his career in robotics didn’t work out, he could always become a costume designed for sci-fi movies. Maybe if they made an eighth Star Wars movie, they’d hire him to make something.

 

He pulled his computer out of the duffel bag and turned it on, connecting with the software he put into the suit to monitor everything, the oxygen levels, the core temperature, the temperature of the fire it was in, and even included heart rate, body temperature and even how fast they were breathing. He checked everything to make sure all of it was on and working and then just had to wait for Fred to come back in.

 

“Grabbed a few fire extinguishers just in case.” Fred told Hiro as the former wheeled in the containment unit, it was glass, obviously, so they would be able to see how it took the heat. “Where do you want it?”

 

Hiro didn’t even look up from the screen. “You can just place it next to he suit.” He tapped a few of the on screen buttons before he sat the piece of tech off to the side. He walked over to Fred and the unit, and together the two of them maneuvered the suited up dummy in side; the two of them having issues getting the dummy to stand on it’s own.

 

“I think it’ll stay up now.” Fred said after they angled the dummy so it was leaning against the glass wall while its feet were on the floor of the unit but braced against the other sidewall.

 

“Hope so.” Hiro jumped down off the little cart Fred had wheeled the unit in on, making sure it wasn’t going to roll out from under him.

 

Fred made his way over to the closet he kept his suit in to pull out the little flamethrowers that was made into the suit; he also tugged out a ladder and a fireproof drape.

 

“It’s like a firefighting suit.” Hiro finally answered Fred’s earlier question.

 

The older male looked at it.

 

“Right now I just wanna test how long it can last in the middle of a fire.” The fourteen year old continued. “I’m also going to test how warm it gets inside the suit. Real suits they wear usually let’s in a whole lot of steam inside the suit, trying to cut that down.” The teen rambled about a few other things, but Fred was too busy realizing how alike Hiro and Tadashi were.

 

They both acted the same when it came to projects – wanting to get as much done in as little time as possible, both jumped around when they got a part working

 

“So when ever you’re ready, you can turn that on.” Hiro’s voice broke through Fred’s thoughts.

 

Fred nodded and went to unhook one of the flamethrowers he practiced aiming with from one of the locked shelves by the dummy closet before walking back to the center of the space. “Is there a certain way I should do this?” He asked his young friend who was stationed behind his computer screen a few yards away.

 

“Try not to actually get the suit, just aim it down towards the bottom, like the suit is actually standing in a fire.” Hiro instructed as he typed a few things onto the computer. “This is recording.” He stated. “Prototype fire test one.” He nodded towards Fred to set the suit aflame.

 

Fred turned the flamethrower on the lowest setting, trying not to overwhelm the suit, and aimed it toward the floor.

 

Hiro watched the numbers change on his computer screen. Ten seconds in the flame and the suit was already up to 700 degrees. And very little steam was being let into the actual suit. He was actually pretty surprised. He didn’t think the suit was actually going to hold up at all.

 

25 seconds and just over 1000 degrees. 30 seconds and at 1500 degrees.

 

Not bad for a prototype.

 

That’s when things started to take a left turn.

 

Hiro had Fred turn up the power just a level, but somehow, it got a little out of control, and the two males weren’t quite sure how.

 

Fire had managed to get out of the container and fall to the floor below, effectively catching the wood floor on fire. While both guys jumped up, Fred’s actions were immediate, letting go of the flamethrower, thus stopping the fire from coming out, grabbing the extinguisher and spraying the foam on the little fire that had spread only to a foot of the floor. Fred didn’t have to spray too much before the little flames were out and the wood was decorated with a slight scorch mark.

 

“It’ll add character.” Fred commented as he placed the extinguisher back to where he had it. He looked over at where Hiro was, or had been, before the little incident only to find that he wasn’t in the seat but had practically pressed himself as close to the wall _behind_ where he had been. “Hiro?” Fred stepped down off the small ladder and walked toward his friend.

 

Hiro was in a completely different place at that moment; physically, he was in the practice room at Fred’s, mentally he was back at the showcase fire. He was back at the showcase fire and watching his brother practically casting Hiro aside to save Callaghan, to run into his own fiery, hellish grave.

 

_Tadashi! Don’t!_ Reaching out to grab his brother was fruitless, the elder just pulling from Hiro’s strongest-but-not-strong-enough grip.

 

“Hiro!” Fred’s frantic voice brought his mind back to the present. “Hiro, it’s out. Breathe little man. It’s fine.”

 

_It’ll never be fine._

 

The fourteen year old tried to take a breath in, but his lungs weren’t working with him, while his heart was working over time, beating faster than should be considered healthy.

 

What was Hiro doing? Playing with fire? Granted, _he_ wasn’t the one controlling the fire, he was just using it, but basically playing in it. He shouldn’t have done this.

 

“You’re trying to help people.” Fred answered one of Hiro’s internal questions.

 

_Did I say that out loud?_

 

“Yeah, you did.” Fred softly replied.

 

Hiro let out a small sigh before he realized he was tightly hugging Fred. “Sorry.” He let go and attempted to move away, but lost his balance and stumbled, Fred grabbing his arm to keep him upright was the only thing that kept Hiro from meeting the floor.

 

_The same floor that just got burned._

 

Hiro looked over to where the suit was and saw the dark marks on the floor. His breath caught in his throat again.

 

“Hey, don’t look at it.” Fred put his hand over Hiro’s brown eyes and made the fourteen-year-old look away, having to physically turn him away.

 

“I’m sorry.” Hiro blurted out.

 

“About what?” The older male asked. “About the floor? Don’t worry about it. I’ve done worse to it.” He waved it off. “Are you okay though?”

 

Hiro nodded. _No, I’m not okay._ But he didn’t actually say that part aloud. “I think that’s enough for today.” He muttered. “Suit took it great. Not bad for a first run through, huh?” He tried to change the subject.

 

“Great trial.” Fred slowly agreed. “Do you need a ride home?”

 

Wild hair shook as Hiro told him no. “I’m still sorry about the floor.” He mumbled as he started to pack his computer and notebook up.

 

“It’s fine.” Hiro’s friend assured. “Still I have to replace that corner over there from last month. I was got carried away when I was testing the suit.” He motioned his head toward the opposite corner of the room, where noticeable dark marks could be seen. 

 

It wasn’t long before Hiro as all packed up and on his way home, walking from Fred’s, deciding he didn’t want to be near people at the moment, so riding the tram was out of the question.

 

At one point on his walk home, he went straight instead of turning left at the corner, which would have led him straight home to the café. But he didn’t, he just kept walking and ended up standing in front of Tadashi’s grave. Which honestly, it didn’t surprise the fourteen year old; it was practically a habit now, to stop by and say hi to his brother’s headstone, tell the cold, engraved stone about his day and what crazy outfit Mrs. Matsuda was wearing that day. _She’s eighty thousand years old! She needs to cover up!_ But mostly, he went there just to sit and feel closer to Tadashi.

 

Hiro dropped his bag and the garment bag with the suit onto the bench that was conveniently on the other side of the path looking towards his older brother’s grave, and stomped up to the stone.

 

“I’m afraid of fire.” He stated. “And I blame you.”

 

 

 


	6. His Mind is a Full Casket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Okay is being a little stubborn right now, so here's a little something I've been working on for a few days. Probably one of the shorter things I've written for this series... but oh well. Describes how I feel sometimes with my anxiety.

**His Mind is a Full Casket**

 

 

 

It was rather morbid of him, if he were being honest with himself, morbid that he was standing in front of his own grave. It was empty, yes, him physically standing in front of it should be proof enough that it was. And even though there was nothing underneath him, it was still creepy that he was there.

 

He never really given dying, the end of his life much thought other than one day it’d happen. But standing over top of _his_ own _empty buried casket_ he couldn’t help but. And for some reason, the thought of when he _does_ actually die, he’ll be buried, hopefully he really will be, in a casket akin to the empty one he was standing six feet above. And that made him feel claustrophobic for some reason. It’s not like he’ll know he’s dead. Would he?

 

Although, for all intents and purposes, everything that he had been through in the past few months, everything he had to endure and do, and all the thoughts that ran through his head now – he felt like he was in a casket, buried where he was supposed to be. Six feet down in the dark, unable to get out, unable to get someone’s attention to ask for help.

 

His mind was constantly on a loop, a repetitive loop of what-ifs and ‘ _I shouldn't have done that_ ’, ‘ _why did I run in there’_ , and ‘ _what was I thinking’_. At night, it got worse. When he closed his eyes, when he tried to sleep, he relived it; some of what actually happened, and some a little more dramatized.

It haunted him.

 

The entire ordeal haunted him. He couldn’t escape. How can you run when you’re mind and your thoughts are right there with you the entire time? When it’s acknowledging the fact that no matter where you run, how fast, how many turns you make to throw everything off your trail, it’s still going to be there. Following him. Never. Giving. Up. On torturing his poor, defenseless soul that had been through so much and really just needed a break.

 

He had promised his aunt that he wasn't going to be doing something stupid again to try to help himself cope; had promise he’d actually try therapy, again and for real, but it still hadn’t been helping. In fact, Tadashi thought it was making him hurt more, reliving everything, again, and actually speaking about it out loud.

 

No matter what he tried, he couldn’t get away from it, couldn’t get any relief from his torturous mind.

 

His friends were always trying to help, God bless their hearts, offering their assistance or ear if he ever needed them. They’d helped him get used to noise again; they were never a very loud group of friends when they all used to hang out, well, compared to other groups of friends. They had their moments where they’d get rowdy, but that was if they were playing some sort of game. When they first heard he was alive, they visited two at a time, and quicker than Tadashi thought he’d be able to, they were all, including Hiro and their aunt, hanging out at the café or in the living room watching TV.

 

They’d helped him so much.

 

Cass, bless her soul as well, would be the one Tadashi would go to when he had a particularly horrible flashback or twisted up nightmare; much to Hiro’s discontent, Tadashi didn’t want his brother to know of everything that had happened, the kid was only fourteen, he didn’t need that level of distrust for the world yet. So Cass was the one who would listen to Tadashi when he was at his most vulnerable, even though the young adult didn’t like talking about it; he’d wake her up in the middle of the night and they’d sit in the living room and let him talk, her not really speaking, and eventually Tadashi would be able to fall back into a light sleep. He opened up more to her than the therapist that they were paying good money for.

 

And Hiro. Hiro knew on a level different than their friends and aunt of what anxiety and panic attacks were. Hiro knew how to distract not only himself, but Tadashi as well whenever one of them was having a moment. Sometimes it was as simple as turning the TV on and having a little conversation about all the lame shows that were on, others it was a nice quiet competitive game of Mario Kart or breaking out the ol’ Sega and playing the original Sonic game. Sometimes though, it’d be a panic attack, and that was something Tadashi had yet to learn to shake himself out of – not like Hiro was doing any better at it, at least the kid knew what it was and how long it’d roughly last. Tadashi generally made his worse, letting his mind wonder back, completely ignoring the reality and the now and focusing back to Callaghan or Krei or having to rip apart his little brother’s invention so the two tech gurus could rebuild a portal that shouldn’t have been made in the first place.

 

But Hiro would try to pull his brother back out, out of the plastic _coffin_ Tadashi would _bury_ himself in.

 

_“Why is it made of plastic?”_ _Hiro commented one time when Tadashi said that._

_“Glass is too easy to break.” The elder had replied. “Plastic isn’t.”_

_“Some of it is.” The younger had shrugged._

_Tadashi chuckled. “Not mine.”_

 

A bird chirped loudly near him, Tadashi jumped, landing back into the present, in front of the headstone that had his name engraved on it.

 

_“_ Should probably have this removed.” He muttered to himself as he ran his fingers of the letters of his name. “I should also probably stop morbidly touching this.” He raised an eyebrow at himself and retracted his hand from the stone, the same had that he had reached out to get the burning piece of ceiling away from the door when he had stupidly run into the fire. But instead of his hand meeting scolding plaster, it had met cool rock. But as he pulled it away, a ghost of burning pain surged through his hand for a moment before it went away.

 

Tadashi sighed and slowly backed away from the plot with the empty casket, wishing he could just bury the thoughts let them rest comfortably six feet under. But unfortunately, they were stuck with him, six feet above until he would actually need the plot.


	7. Happy Birthday Tadashi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, Tadashi strikes me as a summer baby. So I decided that his birthday is in early September. (He also strikes me as the nerd who’d get excited for the start of school being on his birthday.) So, I’ll make this as painful as possible.

**Happy Birthday, Tadashi**

 

He had a dream, a dream where everything was as it should have been; Tadashi being excited all week for his birthday, talking nonstop about it and how he was ‘getting old’, only for the day of his birthday to actually arrive and the young adult suddenly go quiet about it, not wanting to make a big deal. Then cake would be brought out and you’d think Tadashi would never shut up again.

 

His Aunt Cass and Hiro were pretty sure, if they allowed him to, he’d celebrate his birthday, and any one else’s birthday for that matter, all week long. Hiro’s also pretty sure that Tadashi would try to make birthdays some kind of government holiday, or at least his birthday a holiday.

 

Hiro would spend a month a head of time trying to get the right present for his older brother, as excited as Tadashi would get over his birthday, the oldest Hamada male would never tell anyone what he wanted. Hiro got so fed up with it one year he got Tadashi a very girlie, decorative bowl; all pink roses, glitter swirls, and everything.

 

And Tadashi _actually_ used it. He sat it on top of one of his bookshelves and kept little odds and ends in it.

 

But this year.

 

This year would be drastically different.

 

And Hiro had a dream; the same dream he’d been having all week, where Tadashi was still walking around talking about his birthday. He was turning 22 this year, and would occasionally hum that Taylor Swift song, annoying Hiro to no end, Aunt Cass was bustling around asking the same questions about what kind of cake Tadashi wanted this year.

 

And before Tadashi would answer her, Hiro would wake up and realize Tadashi wasn’t there this year to do that. He wasn’t there to be secretive about what he wanted for his birthday, or to avoid Aunt Cass asking about his cake until the last possible minute for any kind of cake to turn out delicious. He wasn’t there to ramble on and on all throughout the week, only to be quiet a good hour or two on his actual birthday.

 

Tadashi wasn’t there.

 

He won’t be there. He won’t be there next year, or the year after, or the year after that; so on and so one. Never again will Tadashi be able to celebrate his birthday. He won’t be able to get even more excited if school started on or right before his birthday – he was always even more excited if he got to go to school on his birthday.

 

Hiro always thought it was the one-day of the year Tadashi actually wanted to have everyone’s attention on him, talking to him, thinking about him.

 

Birthdays are a celebration of life. The anniversary of the day you were brought into the world.

 

But Tadashi wasn’t there.

 

Funerals were also supposed to be a celebration of life, celebrating all that person had done to contribute to the world.

 

Tadashi had 21 birthdays and one funeral.

 

Hiro was also pretty sure you were supposed to have at least seventy birthdays before one had a funeral. But, Hiro wasn’t actually pretty sure about anything anymore.

 

But at least he’s glad the first ‘holiday’ they had to spend without the older sibling, it was said old sibling’s birthday. Don’t ask Hiro why he thought that, but he’s certain Tadashi’s birthday would be the hardest for them to continue on through the day, it being only a month since the incident, since the fire. The entire house still had a feeling of Tadashi around it, in it. If the two of them thought hard enough, they could still hear him tinkering in the garage, talking out loud to himself on a particularly hard assignment question. 

 

Tadashi had left his cell phone at home the night of the showcase, the battery was low and he was charging it and just forgot to get it on the way out the door.

 

Hiro leaves it plugged in and the ringer on. And sometimes, during a particularly sad, grieving moment, Hiro would text the phone just so he could hear the ringer for a few seconds an pretend that his brother read it.

 

And he knows their friends do that too. They’ll call, a snippet of Fall Out Boy’s song Immortals would play – Tadashi’s guilty pleasure band-, they’ll leave a voicemail, and a little pre-programmed chirp would sound through the room a moment later.

 

Hiro knows sooner or later, he’ll have to go over and get Tadashi’s phone, plug it into one of the many computers the two brothers had shared, upload all the voicemails and texts – unopened, unread – just to make room for more. It was the only way, other than those Baymax test videos, for anyone to hear Tadashi’s voice.

 

(---)

 

On the morning of Tadashi’s birthday, Hiro _almost_ jumped up to tell his older brother happy birthday.

 

Then he remembered.

 

Tadashi wasn’t there.

 

Hiro decided it was a good day to lay in bed for as long as he could.

 

On the afternoon of Tadashi’s birthday, Cass _almost_ marched into the brothers’ room to demand Tadashi tell her what cake he wanted or else he was getting some kind of weird cake with different flavors because she didn’t enough mix of everything to make a normal cake.

 

Then she remembered.

 

Tadashi wasn’t there.

 

Cass decided it was a good day to not think about cake.

 

On the evening of Tadashi’s birthday, Hiro finally ventured downstairs to check on his aunt, to make sure she was getting through the sad day okay, only to be met with her halfway down the stairs, as she was going to check on _him_ , to make sure _he_ was getting through the sad day okay.

 

“Hey, Aunt Cass.” Hiro muttered, not meeting her gaze, not wanting her see that he’d been crying all day, although he was almost certain she had cried at some point, when she had a moment to herself.

 

“Hey, hun. Want something to eat?” She asked gently, he voice a little shaky, as she leaned against the railing.

 

Her only nephew shook his head.

 

“Well, there a whole lot of stuff in the fridge if you want anything later. Let me know, I’ll heat something up.” She sounded like she was done talking to him, but didn’t move from where she was.

 

“I had finally found the perfect thing to get him.” Hiro almost whispered.

 

She hummed in question. “And what’s that.”

 

He leaned against the wall opposite of her. “A vinyl of that stupid song from that band he liked, Fall Down Dude, or something.” He made a gesture upstairs.

 

Cass laughed a little, sounding a tad forced, but not entirely so. “Fall _Out Boy_.” She corrected.

 

“Eh, same thing.” He sighed. “Autographed and everything.” He told her.

 

A soft smile appeared on her face, the only time she smiled that day. “He would have liked that.”

 

Hiro nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

 

(---)

 

 Then Callaghan admitted Tadashi was still alive.

 

Then they got the call from the police saying Tadashi was in the hospital.

 

And everything slowly, Ross and Rachel first getting together slowly, things started falling back into their normal pattern.

 

Hiro had forgotten, sort of, of the autographed vinyl sitting wrapped up in a little, thin box under his bed. It had slipped his mind until one night he was looking for something he knew was tucked under his bed, and found the wrapped up vinyl instead.

 

Sure, Tadashi was sleeping, but this present was long over due, and deserved to be in it’s original, intended owner’s hands.

 

“Tadashi.” Hiro stood next to his sleeping brother. “Tadashi.” He said a little louder, adding a poke to Tadashi’s cheek.

 

The older brother stirred away. “’Ro?” His voice slurred with tiredness. “Was up?” He rubbed his face to try to wake up a little more. The young adult sat up and looked at his younger brother.

 

Hiro pulled the wrapped present from behind his back. “This is for you.” The fourteen year old simply stated, pushing the thin package in Tadashi’s face.

 

“It’s the middle of the night.” Tadashi bluntly said. “It’s the middle of the night, and you’re giving me a present?” He raised an exhausted eyebrow at the kid.

 

Hiro nodded, but didn’t say anything.

 

The twenty-two year old sighed and took the gift, trying to keep his eyes opened as he unwrapped the paper. It was a minute or so before he was able to get the paper off and he was able to see what the gift was.

 

A signed vinyl record of the song Immortals.

 

“Thanks, Hiro.” Tadashi smiled and reached an arm out to signal his brother he wanted a hug.

 

Hiro fell right into it, sitting on the edge of his brother’s bed, facing him. “Happy Birthday, Tadashi.” He muttered into his older brother’s shoulder.

 

He heard Tadashi chuckle. “Thanks, knucklehead.”

 

 

 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little story spans between the scenes of You’re Okay and maybe a little after We’re Okay.  
> (I was going to put that at the top, but then I thought, if you knew it was in the timeline of both stories, if you’re read them, it might not hurt as much.  
> I’ll be honest, when I started writing this, I didn’t expect it to end that way. I actually wanted it to hurt, because I’m mean like that. I even had a scene in my head where everyone just kinda showed up to be the for the little family and Hiro telling Tadashi happy birthday before the younger went to sleep.  
> It also turned out longer.  
> And to be honest, I like this one a lot more than my original plan.  
> Did it hurt at all?


	8. An Anxious Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, as many others in this fandom headcanon, think that the Hamada parents died in a car accident; as it really only seems like the most logical explanation as to what happened. But what if the Hamada bros were in the car with them?
> 
> And, I totally don’t know how to name the parents, so… yeah. First names that popped to mind (and by popped into mind, I mean googled.)
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, I’m so sorry I haven’t updated I’m Okay in a while. I’m trying to, trust me. I haven’t hit so much as a writer’s block it’s more of a ….. bridgeless gap. I know where the story is going, what needs to be said, I just can’t seem to find where I put the words; they have escaped me every time I go to type.
> 
>  
> 
> So here. A oneshot.

 

**An Anxious Start**

 

It was a very mundane day, albeit it was a government holiday day, so the Hamadas were all at home together – Akio, his wife Marie, and their two sons, Tadashi and Hiro.

 

It was just an innocent question, a simple little drive to the park for some ice cream on the nice weathered day. The two boys had been asking for almost a week to go for ice cream as a family. And that specific government holiday day just happened to be the seemingly perfect time to go.

 

So they went.

 

And Marie was smart enough to bring extra napkins since Hiro had a tendency to somehow, magically, get ice cream on his forehead – and he never ever raised the cone high enough to do that.

 

Akio called it a world mystery.

 

Ten-year-old Tadashi tried to get Hiro to climb up the playground stairs to the highest slide. He even promised the toddler that it wasn’t even that scary from six feet up, and the slide wasn’t even a very fast slide.

 

Hiro didn’t fall for it.

 

The three year old may not be able to talk perfect English, or Japanese for that matter, but he knew when someone was telling him a lie. He had seen how fast his brother could slide down that slide; he could see how high up it was. Hiro was only just shy of three feet tall. He could literally stand another one of him on his head and _still_ not reach the top where Tadashi stood.

 

Hiro refused to climb up there.

 

But the boys played and climbed on everything else on the little play ground, swung on the swings, tried to make their way across the monkey bars, Tadashi made it half way through by himself, and Hiro made it all the way across – with the help of their father holding up the toddler and just walking him under the bars. All in all, it was a fun day of ice cream and park time.

 

That’s when it all started going wrong.

 

It was just before dinner time and they were driving down a quiet road, still broad day light, nobody should have been that high over the legal point of blood alcohol. And someone that impaired shouldn’t have been operating a motor vehicle.

 

But alas, they were.

 

A Ford truck, blue if Tadashi could remember right, smashed into the front drivers’ side of their small Honda car. He may only have been ten, but Tadashi knew instantly that their dad wasn’t with them anymore. And the boy’s mother wasn’t fairing any better when their car finally stopped rolling and sliding across the pavement with a _screeching_ halt.

 

Then everything was silent.

 

(---)

 

Tadashi opened his brown eyes without even remembering he had closed them. A dimly lit room greeted him, along with the constant beeps from something next to him. He moved to sit up, but found he couldn’t use either of his arms; one was in a cast and the other had some sort of needle taped into the crook of his elbow.

 

“Tadashi?” A familiar feminine voice quietly split through the quiet room.

 

The ten year old looked over toward the voice and saw his Aunt Cass sitting in a chair between the two hospital beds. She immediately stood up and made her way from her seat to his bedside, sitting herself on the edge.

 

“Hi.” Tadashi’s young voice cracked a little from sleep. He couldn’t get the best look at her expression in the dark room, but he could hear her sniffle every few seconds or so. “Where’s Hiro?” He tried to rub at his eye to get the sleep out of it, but with his arms out of commission for the time being, he settled for using his shoulder; which didn’t really work.

 

Cass moved a little and motioned over to the other bed in the hospital room – because that’s where they were. A hospital. “He’s sleeping. He’s fine, a couple bumps and bruises, a few scratches from broken glass-” Her breath hitches audibly in the quiet room. “How’s your arm, sweetie?” She turned the topic to him.

 

He shrugged. “I don’t really feel it right now, but it’s not numb.”

 

She nodded in understanding. “If it does, just hit the call button here,” She motioned to the little button on a remote wired to his bed as she pulled it up. “And a nurse will give you something for it.”

 

Now it was his turn to nod before falling silent for a few minutes.

 

Before he changed the topic to someone he was really concerned about. “How’s mom?”

 

His aunt took in a deep, preparing breath. She moved her hand from the nurse call remote to his hand. She gave it a reassuring squeeze, and didn’t let go.

 

(---)

 

Tadashi was released from the hospital later that day, but Hiro was to stay one more night. The doctors, while they were sure Hiro would be fine, they wanted to make sure he didn’t have any delayed shocks or injuries.

 

And somehow, Tadashi convinced their aunt to let him tell Hiro about their parents. She gave an understanding nod and excuse that she was going to run to the vending machines promising to bring back all sorts of treats for the brothers.

 

“And gummy bears!” Hiro was quick to add before she walked out of the door.

 

“Hey,” Tadashi moved from a chair beside his little brother’s hospital bed, to sitting on the mattress facing Hiro. “We need to talk.” His voice was quiet, but left no room for arguments.

 

“About what?” Little Hiro asked as he curiously ran his little fingers over his older brother’s cast.

 

“About the accident.” Tadashi mumbled _just_ clear enough for Hiro to hear. “About mom and dad.”

 

“What about them?” Childish, innocent brown eyes looked up into Tadashi’s own dark eyes.

 

The ten year old had to look away for a moment. “You know they loved us, right?”

 

Hiro nodded. “Yeah, they say that every day.” He still had a bright, sunny attitude, not even picking up on his older brother using past tense.

 

Tadashi nodded. “Yep. Yep indeed they did.” He took in a stuttering breath. “Listen, Hiro, um, mom and dad aren’t coming back.” He said slowly and gently.

 

Hiro stopped running his tiny fingers over Tadashi’s cast, stopped admiring the texture of the plaster. “Did I do something wrong?”

 

If Tadashi’s heart wasn’t already broken from the tragedy, those words would have severed his heart strings. “No, no, no, no buddy. You did nothing wrong.” He reached over and carded his free hand through Hiro’s bushy mane of hair. “You know that car accident we were just in?”

 

A tiny three-year-old head nod was all he got in response.

 

“Well, they were in the front seats, and that’s where the car got hit at.” Tadashi continued. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush. “That, um,” he tried to think of the best words to use. _Kill_ seemed like too heavy of a word to use with such a young mind; but _dead_ seemed like too _soft_ of a word to use.

 

“Did they die from that?” Hiro took the words his older brother had been trying to find.

 

“Yeah, yeah they did.” The ten year old nodded. “Do you know what that means?”

 

Hiro was quiet for a few seconds, finding more interest in his brother’s cast again. “That they’re not coming back?” He more questioned than stated.

 

“They’re not coming back.” Tadashi repeated.

 

(---)

 

Hiro may have been only three years old, but he wasn’t as _naïve_ as most three-year-olds. He may not have been able to fully grasp what death was, he knew it was a permanent thing; that his parents were no longer with them, and would never be with them again.

 

Over the next few days after he was released from the hospital, they moved their stuff, Tadashi and Hiro’s stuff, into their new room at their aunt’s. Hiro never left Tadashi’s side, not that the elder would let the younger out of his sight, but the two were always together. Sitting together in the same chair – even if it was at the dinner table, sitting on the same cushion on the couch, or sleeping on the same air mattress their aunt had set up as their temporary beds.

 

That was both a good and a bad thing.

 

Good because it assured _both_ boys that the other was still there. Bad because gluing to each other’s side was not working through what they were going through.

 

Not working through a new found fear can stay with one as they grow. And as they grow, the fear grows and complexes with multiple faces and triggers. Though it does that, the root of the problem stays the same.

 

One being afraid of losing the other.

 

 


	9. Gogo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! Guess who’s 21!!! Hint: This girl! Right here! The one typing this! Whoop! 
> 
> __
> 
> _Anyway..._
> 
> _I had a thought the other day, that I had mentioned that (in my head canon) Gogo has anxiety, but I never really elaborated on that. So I wrote this up._

Gogo was well acquainted with anxiety and panic attacks, both her own and others – it was a reason why she preferred to be quick and get everything done, always being on the move; so she wouldn't have time to dwell on her inner thoughts and fears. It wasn't that the short college student was afraid of death – no, if she was she wouldn't race down the streets of San Fransokyo, wouldn’t fly around with the gang on Baymax’s back – she was actually pretty sure her mind wasn’t even sure what exactly gave her anxiety, the thoughts and attacks just coming whenever they pleased like that unwanted friend that happened to live down the street and think it was an invitation to hang out at your house all the time and never leaving.

 

_“They can offer support through your panic attacks.”_

When Baymax had said those words in his monotonous robotic voice, the rest of the group may not have caught on to what he had said, but Gogo sure did. And she’ll be honest, she hadn’t pegged the teen for having anxiety; of course up until then she only saw him when he had been with Tadashi, working on his Microbots, and giving his presentation, and the funeral so really she didn’t have much ‘Hiro time’ to really assess. She always thought anxiety was worse when you didn’t have something to do, or someone to be with. Maybe Hiro had thought the same thing.

 

When she had walked out onto Fred’s patio later that night and saw him sitting there all curled into himself trying to keep his breathing even, her heart broke just a little bit more for the boy. Of course, she didn’t know at the time if he had always suffered from those terrible anxious feelings or if it was more new to him.

 

_“May I sit?”_

 

A small nod was all she got in reply, so she sat on the furthest part of the chair as she could, not knowing how he acted during his attacks. She, for one, couldn’t stand anybody touching her, speaking to her, looking at her; but she didn't want to be left alone even if that’s the aura she gave off.

 

At one point, after a handful of minutes sitting there, not speaking or anything, she had spotted a lilac bush near the patio and brought back one of the flower bunch to the fourteen year old wheezing on the chair.

 

_“Lilacs help me through my attacks.”_

 

She had told him that and ten minutes later, she had a crying teen him her arms.

 

Gog had always dealt with her anxiety on her own, her parents not understanding exactly what was wrong in her mind, choosing to just blatantly ignoring it unless it became an inconvenience and a problem for them. While she knew that wasn't the case with Hiro, he even admitted to Tadashi and Cass telling him had to go t a handful of therapy sessions; she knew it could be hard to talk about _every thought_ with a stranger who was being paid to sit in a room with you for an hour, write some seemingly nonsensical notes on a legal pad then say ‘see ya next week’; so she promised him that anytime he felt overwhelmed with anything, or just needed someone who dealt with it too, to call her up and she’ll listen to him, or he could listen to her if he just needed to hear a voice that wasn’t his own thoughts.

 

The next time she had held him while he cried was in his garage after their first run-in with that kabuki masked guy, Callaghan, and they had caught the tail end of Baymax showing Hiro a few of Tadashi’s test videos.

 

She knew the team was beyond furious with Callaghan for what he did, or didn’t do – that would be the right choice of words, but they couldn’t imagine what _exactly_ Hiro felt, what had been going through his mind when Callaghan said it was Tadashi’s own fault.

 

She also knew Hiro wasn’t quite all there when he had commanded Baymax to _destroy_ , she had seen the heartbreak and distant look in his eyes, both frantic yet calm at the same time; the kid was so overwhelmed and stressed and upset, he was probably numb at that point, emotionally.

 

So it didn’t surprise her when he launched into a panic attack a few minutes later when it all came back to him, of what he almost did, who he had acted like. But of course, the clueless nillies behind her weren’t helping much, not their fault they probably didn't have over active minds that couldn't be reigned in without some sort of drug.

 

_“Breathe, Hiro, breathe.”_

It took him a few minutes before he was able to somewhat calm down, just sniffling into her shoulder while she rubbed his back in a soft, comforting manner, the gang beside them ready to bolt inside to get Cass if need be. Hiro may have lost his brother, but he gained two more and two sisters. Of course, no one would _replace_ Tadashi, but they could help Hiro mend.

 

Gogo realized this as Hiro started to pull away from her, that over the past few weeks, they’ve been a little family, unknowingly helping _each other_ mend; and whether they would eventually acknowledge it or not, that’s what they were becoming – more than just a group of friends, more than a group of nerds-turned-superheroes.

 

And what do families do? Sty by each other’s sides. And that’s what they were going to do.

 

Through thick and thin, happiness and sadness, panic attacks and anxiety, and everything in between.

 

Gogo was well acquainted with anxiety and panic attacks, both her own and others, so when Hiro would send her a text in the middle of the night or whenever, she’d take a break from what she was doing and talk him down.

 

It was the least she could do, doing for others that didn’t do it for her when she needed it the most; she didn’t want her young friend to travel down the same dark path she had so many years ago.

 

 


End file.
